Hyotei and the Happy Panda
by EllipsesBandit
Summary: Ohtori's plan to win over Shishido involves roller coasters, funnel cakes, and the rest of the Hyotei regulars. Jirou thinks it's a good idea. You should too. Silver Pair, AtoJi, OshiGaku
1. Through the Gates

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Chapter One: In which the team enters the gates and learns an interesting fact about their buchou._

_Author: The EllipsesBandit..._

_Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi. The Happy Panda Amusement park belongs to my brain, though I stole most of the rides from Knott's Berry Farm._

_Pairings: Silver Pair, AtoJi, OshiGaku_

_Summary: Ohtori's plan to win Shishido involves roller coasters, funnel cakes, and the rest of the Hyotei regulars. Jirou thinks it's a good idea. You should too._

_A/N: So, I think I've burned out on my TezFuji for the time being. Time to explore some of the rest of the eighty or so PoT characters. Welcome to the EllipsesBandit... messes with Hyotei! Thanks to microgirl once again for beta-ing, purchasing me ice cream, and kicking me till I started posting. FYI, this is set at the beginning of the year just after Shishido gets dropped but before the hair incident that I still weep over. Also, I actually have no idea what Ohtori's parents do, and I'm too lazy to translate/beg someone to translate 20.5 to find out. _

_Super cracked out fluffy adventure begins now!_

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The limo didn't so much roll as glide into the parking lot, seeming to coast just a few centimeters off the common ground. Around the entrance of the park, feet paused. Heads turned. Camera cases snapped open as patrons turned to see which movie stars could be inside the sleek vehicle. Even when the chauffer opened the door to reveal the Hyotei regulars and not the latest stars of stage and screen, most people snapped photos anyway. That was just the environment Atobe brought with him wherever he went. Indeed, in his open-chested, blue satin shirt and designer sunglasses, most people probably assumed he was a movie star.

Ohtori walked calmly to the limo. Part of him wanted to jog, but as a regular, he needed to keep a measure of composure. Behind Atobe bounced Jirou-senpai, wide-awake for once. "Oy, Ohtori-kun!" he sang, bright eyes surveying the park. "Sugeeeeeeeeei. Does your family really own this place?"  
Ohtori nodded. Jirou-senpai replaced Shishido-senpai in the singles slot. Ohtori knew this meant he shouldn't like the boy, but everyone liked Jirou-senpai. He'd been one of the first people to speak to Ohtori when he transferred in (after catching sight of his serve between naps). Also, even half-asleep Jirou-senpai could run circles around Atobe better than anyone else at Hyotei, which was always fun to watch.

Kabaji exited third, silent as usual and taking his place behind Atobe. Oshitari-senpai and Mukahi-senpai followed. Ohtori and Taki had played against them frequently as they waited for spots to open up. They were the wild card in today's plan. However, today was Sunday, and the two of them normally didn't break up until Wednesday, reuniting by lunchtime Thursday, so Ohtori hoped a spat between them wouldn't disrupt his plan.

The two of them wrinkled their noses at the smiling, inflatable mascot on the gift shop roof. "The Happy Panda Amusement Park?" Mukahi-senpai sneered. "This better not be some little kids' place, Ohtori."

Ohtori smiled brightly. "Of course not, senpai. My father built two new coasters and a tower ride here over the last few years. And I have VIP passes for us so we won't have to wait in line."

"Always prepared for everything," Taki-senpai smiled, the last to slide out of the limo. Taki-senpai seemed to slide everywhere, moving in a constant, fluid motion. Ohtori found it rather unnerving, and the low-necked, mauve tank top only added to the problem. "Cool idea, Ohtori. I haven't been to one of these places since my family went on vacation to America, and that place was pretty lame."

Ohtori tried his most polite, detached voice. "Thank you, Taki-senpai."

"Ore-sama approves," Atobe remarked, not directly to Ohtori. Still, it was the the most praise he was going to get for his gift to the newly re-formed regulars team.

"Ne, ne Atobe! Let's go on that one first!" Jirou-senpai pointed to the newest coaster, the one that ran three 360 degree loops and two sidewinder turn while the riders' feet dangled mid-air.

Atobe raised an eyebrow over his glasses. "We'll see."

"We just have to wait for one more person," Ohtori interjected as off-handedly as he could. The regulars turned to stare at him. This was the dangerous bit. Ohtori brightened his smile. "Shishido-san has been so helpful with my serve, I invited him to join us."

Even Jirou-senpai looked nervous at this. The players passed looks between each other as Taki drew a little closer to Ohtori, whispering, "Ne, are you sure-"

"There he is!" Ohtori waved to the shorter boy shuffling down the sidewalk from the shuttle drop off. Shishido-san didn't look too pleased to be there, but he was too proud to back away, dropped or not. He kept his hands in the pockets of his jeans, only acknowledging Ohtori with the barest of nods, flicking his hair away from his eyes. He had his hair drawn into a ponytail again, and Ohtori wondered not for the first time how his hair would look hanging loose and free while he played tennis, responding to his every movement...

Ohtori reminded himself that he was trying to make a good impression on the regulars, and Atobe-buchou was rumored to be able to read minds. He shook his head, still beaming as he said, "Thank you for coming, Shishido-san."

Shishido shrugged. "Yeah, no problem." He looked at Atobe, daring the buchou to tell him he didn't have a right to be there.

Atobe, however, seemed more amused than anything else. "Unless there are any other surprise guests ..." he began.

"No, Atobe-buchou. The VIP entrance is just over here." Ohtori led the pack of tennis players through the open gates, knowing his fate at Hyotei would be decided behind them.

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Jirou took a firm grip on Atobe's wrist, enjoying the half-frightened, half-amused look on the buchou's face. "Silver Lightning first!" he proclaimed, dragging the rest of the team towards the coaster.

"Jirou, if you walk backwards, you will run into something," Atobe sighed.

"Mou, you'll tell me if I'm gonna hit something." Besides, turned around, Jirou could watch the soap opera unfolding before him. Shishido slouched at the back of the pack, working to avoid eye contact with anyone. Ohtori-kun, meanwhile, made his steps shorter and shorter until he was more or less trotting to keep pace with his senpai and away from Taki who kept sliding between them and wrapping an arm around Ohtori's shoulders. Jirou enjoyed a good drama.

"Left, Jirou."

"Hai. Ow--"

"Ore-sama's left, Jirou. Please pay attention."

Jirou bowed and stammered a string of apologies to the couple he had just collided with, then resumed bouncing next to Kabaji. Atobe didn't sound mad, but Jirou learned it was best to invade his space in short bursts, gradually increasing in frequency until Atobe stopped noticing. If he clung too much, there was no way Atobe would sit next to him, and Jirou desperately wanted to see Atobe's face at the peak of a fifty foot drop.

"Yuushi, that thing makes you look like a dork," Gakuto observed as Oshitari secured his glasses in place with a multi-colored safety strap.

Oshitari rolled his eyes. "If you want me to ride with you, I have to wear it." The tensai would never actually remove the glasses, Jirou noted.

"I didn't say don't wear it. I just said you look like a dork."

"The Silver Lightning is up this path," Ohtori intervened. Jirou wondered what sort of plan the second year was concocting. He knew it had something to do with the flow chart that had slipped out of Ohtori's bag during morning practice the other day. Jirou agreed with what he could see of the end results, so he decided not to interfere. It looked more entertaining than the Korean dramas his mother watched.

The team approached the line, which stretched outside the ride's corral, spilling into the sidewalk. Ohtori walked to the employee entrance, directing them up the shortcut. Atobe, however, calmly took a seat on a nearby bench -- after Kabaji dusted it off and laid a linen towel over its surface.

"Buchou?" Ohtori asked.

"Please enjoy your common entertainment," Atobe said. "Ore-sama will observe from here. Kabaji, a beverage." _Snap._

Gakuto and Oshitari exchanged a glance. Shishido raised an eyebrow, and Ohtori looked downright panicked. Then, Gakuto started to cackle. "Don't tell me our noble buchou is afraid of heights!"

Atobe's eyes sharpened like they did when he was about to serve. Jirou loved it when his eyes did that. "Ore-sama does not expect you to appreciate the amount of care given to cultivating his appearance. Such common diversions as roller coasters would completely disrupt the effect."

"How much time is that, exactly?" Shishido sighed, sweeping half of his bangs behind an ear. "Come on. His highness will meet up when we're done." He shoved his way through the regulars, ignoring Atobe's glare. Oshitari had a hand over Gakuto's mouth, steering him to follow.

"Atobe-buchou, if you'd rather go somewhere else..." Ohtori began, nervously glancing after Shishido.

Atobe nodded, every bit the benevolent monarch. "Ore-sama prefers to watch this event. Continue."

"Let's go, Ohtori, or they'll ride without us," Taki urged, pulling on Ohtori's elbow.

Jirou remained with Atobe a second longer. "You won't ride with me?"

Gray-green eyes softened for an instant. Just a fraction of a second, but Jirou was awake enough to catch it. "Perhaps later."

The volley specialist sparked at the challenge. "Mou, I'll pick a good one. A really, really sugoi one!" He raced after the rest of the team. "Ne, Ohtori-kun! Ride with me on this one!" No reason anyone else's plan should work perfectly if his wasn't going to.

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Shishido was pretty sure he was in hell.

Atobe was laughing at him, Taki was making inappropriate grabs at Ohtori every five seconds, and he was surrounded by people dressed in psychotically cheerful panda suits. God, those pandas freaked him out. Also, Jirou had snagged Ohtori as they made their way onto the roller coaster, meaning he was going to be stuck sitting way closer to Taki than any decent human being should ever have to.

"So, Shishido, didn't expect you to show up today," Taki said, struggling with his safety belt.

Shishido pretended he didn't know what he was talking about. He could see Ohtori and Jirou getting into their seat four cars up, the older boy insisting they ride in the first car. "The kid invited me. I'm just trying to be a good senpai."

"Yeah, right..."

"What do you mean by that?" Taki had already pulled the brace down over him, so Shishido couldn't hit him. It was poor form to hit an immobilized opponent.

"Nothing," Taki attempted to shrug, though his shoulder movement was now limited. "Suppose your training sessions will have to stop now, huh? I wouldn't worry about him too much. He's a natural at doubles."

Shishido felt a growl in his throat. He knew he shouldn't get upset by these stupid comments. There was nothing to actually be upset about but ...

"Oy, Shishido! Ya gonna stand there all day or can we get moving?"

"Geez sorry, Gakuto. I know you're excited that you're finally tall enough for this ride."

Gakuto threw an arm to his forehead. "Ouch! Height jokes from Shishido! Oh no, Yuushi, they cut too deep!"

"I just wanted to tighten my shoes," Shishido sighed, bending down and nonchalantly pulling on one of Taki's laces. The other boy didn't seem to notice, suspended by the brace. Shishido hopped into his seat.

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_A/N: You know, it occurs to me that I take Tezuka's megane off in just about every fic I write him in. Then, I put megane on Atobe in every__fic write him in. I have some weird habits ... Anyway, stay tuned for my Hyotei fluff and nonsene._


	2. Popo's Magic Jungle

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Chapter Two: In which Ohtori is foiled and Hiyoshi gets some much needed vengeance_

_A/N: I missed Hiyoshi-kun, so welcome to his cameo segment. _

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"Sugoi! Let's ride that one again!" Jirou cried, face flushed and normally wild hair now all the more haphazard. An uncharacteristically soft smile crossed Atobe's face, though he removed it before the others got within range, reminding himself not to behave unseemly in front of them. Gakuto and Oshitari followed, the redhead still loudly proclaiming how idiotic his doubles partner looked on roller coasters. Oshitari did look a little green. Shishido strode next, glowing with satisfaction. The reason for this smirk soon followed.

"That was my damn shoe!" Taki shrieked as he hopped about four feet behind the other regulars, Ohtori helping him none too enthusiastically. _Wonderful_, Atobe thought. A captain's duties were never done.

Oshitari sighed. "Well then you should have made sure it was tied properly. It's a very simple precaution."

"I did!" Taki snarled, growling at Shishido. "_You_ did this."

Shishido smirked. "Yeah. So?"  
Taki's jaw dropped at the unexpected admission. "Atobe--"

Atobe raised an eyebrow at Shishido who shrugged. "What? He pissed me off." The rest of the team, minus Kabaji and Taki, snickered. Ohtori blushed.

"Shishido, kindly save the pranks for a time you are not in ore-sama's presence. Ohtori, the next ride."

"Hai, we could --"

"What about my shoe?"

"Taki, do not interrupt. Ohtori, the next ride."

Taki humphed to himself as Ohtori stammered, "The Sea Dragon is just up the corner, or we could try the Blue Avalanche..."

"Funnel cakes!" Atobe sighed at Jirou's usual lack of decorum as the volley specialist dove towards the concession sign. "Ne, ne, Atobe, we have to get some!"

"You do realize those things actually have a negative nutritional content," Oshitari commented.

Jirou, however, had prepared a defense. "You can put fruit on them." He gestured enthusiastically for the others to join him.

"If you like, Atobe-buchou, we could split up here. Since you don't want to ride the coasters, you could stay here with Jirou-senpai. We could all meet up at the Midway in a few hours." Ohtori's suggestion was tentative, but Atobe sensed a core of steel behind it. He'd been watching Ohtori for the better part of a year. The boy would be a good captain one day provided he remembered his place until then.

"Ore-sama believes you should assist your senpai in locating his effects first. Then, your suggestion is acceptable."

Ohtori nodded, though his lips tightened a fraction. "Hai, buchou."

"You guys have fun," Gakuto cackled. "Yuushi, I wanna ride the Spin Cycle!"

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Ohtori was not supposed to sit by Jirou-senpai. Jirou was supposed to demand to sit next to Atobe, leaving Kabaji to sit by Shishido-san. Ohtori would sit by Taki at least for the next two rides; Taki-senpai was essential to his plan.

But Atobe didn't ride roller coasters, Jirou-senpai attached himself to Ohtori's arm, and now Shishido-san had wandered off, leaving Ohtori stuck alone with Taki-senpai, listening to him yell at the park aides to be quicker about finding his shoe. He had no doubt in his mind that Atobe did this on purpose and was now eating funnel cake with Shishido-san while...

"Here." Ohtori jumped backwards as the 500 yen soda was thrust in front of his face. He did, however, recognize an apology from Shishido-san when he saw one, and accepted the drink without comment. Shishido kept his eyes trained on the search in front of him, giving Ohtori the chance to inch a little closer.

"Shishido-san?"  
"Hm?"  
"It was pretty funny."

That got Shishido to look at him, smirking that little half smile Ohtori had never seen him give anyone else.

"Shishido! You owe me a new pair of shoes!" Taki shouted, jogging over to Ohtori's other side at something of a limp. "Look at these!" The left designer tennis shoe had a couple of scuff marks and bits of grass sticking out of the laces, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Taki, you have more shoes than most of the cheerleaders, so shut up."

Taki's face scrunched up like a nylon doll Ohtori's aunt had bought him when he was four. Ohtori had given the doll to his dog to keep it from staring at him all night. "Do you have any idea what those shoes cost? You owe me!"

"Whatever. So where are we going next?" Shishido looked at Ohtori, expectantly. The second year thought fast; he'd have to jump forward a few steps in the flow chart, but it could still work.

"Pharoah's Tomb," he rushed. "We should ride Pharoah's Tomb."

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"If you're such a tensai, how come you can't read the stupid map?" Gakuto whined, snatching the paper away from Oshitari.

"I could read it if you'd let me look at it," he sighed. "We were at the green triangle, we need to go to the pink octagon, so we took the north path. It's all on the key."

"Then how come we're in PoPo's Magic Jungle?" Gakuto snapped, shrieking as a set of sticky toddlers darted between him and Yuushi. The miniature Merry-Go-Round tune was seriously getting on his nerves.

Oshitari snagged the map back. "Because it's the most direct route. The Spin Cycle is across PoPo's Dream Train Tracks and to the right of --"

"Hey, Yuushi." As usual, Gakuto's tantrum lasted only until he was distracted. Gakuto put one hand in front of the taller boy, pointing the other at the top bleacher of the small bandstand. "Don't we know him?"

Hiyoshi hated being the oldest kid in the family. It meant that once the adults got sick of entertaining his twin cousins, they dropped him off at the amusement park with the order to keep them busy until the place closed. No one needed to listen to the PoPo's Magic Jungle theme that many times. No one. Also, PoPo's Musical Spectacular was running four minutes late, which was three minutes and fifty-five seconds longer than his cousins' attention spans.

"Wakashi-nii, I wanna watch the show! When's it gonna start!" Rika shrieked in the tone only an irritated seven-year old can manage.

"This is boring. I wanna go on the roller coaster!" It really wasn't fair to have two irritated seven-year olds capable of that tone.

"I don't like the roller coaster! Ow! Wakashi-nii, she hit me!"  
"I did _not_!"

Hiyoshi rubbed the bridge of his nose, unsure this day could get any worse until he heard the voice from behind him.

"Hiyoshi-kun! I'm so happy you finally found some friends you could connect with intellectually."

Eyes wide, Hiyoshi whirled around. "Senpai? What-what are you doing here?" Now would be a really great time to ask if Mukahi-senpai had finally found some rides he was tall enough for. A really great time if Hiyoshi didn't want to be on the tennis team anymore.

Gakuto leaned an arm on Oshitari's shoulder. "Enjoying our day off. Yuushi, we should escort our kouhai for a while. He looks like he needs our guidance."

Oshitari-senpai adjusted his glasses. "Gakuto, you wanted--"

"I'm fine, senpai. I'm taking my cousins around. Please, just, go about your day. Please."

"But you look so lonely, Hiyoshi-kun," Gakuto cooed. "And as your-- what is that?"

Confetti burst over the audience as a parade of people in animal suits tumbled out from backstage. PoPo the purple panda led the way accompanied for some unknown reason by a a teal kangaroo and a pink hippo. The three tennis players gaped in horror while the seven-year olds cheered.

"That is simply disturbing," Oshitari mumbled.

"You call that acrobatics? I can do that in my sleep?" Gakuto laughed as the hippo did some loosely executed cartwheels.

"You can not," snapped Mina, glaring up at Gakuto.

Gakuto laughed. "Yeah, I can."

"Can not." Mina stuck out her tongue. Rika turned her head, finding her sister's argument more entertaining than the musical. Hiyoshi reminded himself to get Mina a nice birthday present this year.

"Oh yeah?" Gakuto backed a few steps up from Oshitari, steadied himself, and performed a standing backflip, then dropped to his knees, fingers splayed in two V's. "Whadja think of that -- get off!"

Hiyoshi wasn't sure how Rika moved so quickly. Must have been all the Enbu lessons. "Sugoi," she whispered, one hand locked around Gakuto's hair. "It's so shiny."

Gakuto attempted to disentangle himself without ripping out his hair, only to find a second girl latched to his arm. "Ne, ne! Do that again! Can you show me how?"

"Yuushi..." Gakuto's facial expression suggested he was covered in cockroaches rather than seven-year olds.

Oshitari sighed, bending down on one knee. "Ladies, I would appreciate it if you released my friend. Perhaps I could take you for some ice cream instead?"

"Don't talk like that to my cousins!" Hiyoshi snapped, jumping between them. He didn't know what Oshitari-senpai was suggesting, but it didn't sound right.

Oshitari blinked. "I was only--"

"Yuushi, I wanna leave. Now!" Gakuto tore away from Mina's grip, grabbing Oshitari's arm and spinning away from the grandstand. Hiyoshi blinked.

"Rika-chan. Mina-chan. Let's go."

"Good, this show is stupid. Where are we going?" Mina huffed.

"I'm going to buy you any one of the plushies you want. Come on."

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_The EllipsesBandit...'s inside jokes:_

_1. Sing the PoPo's Magic Jungle theme to the tune of Smoochy's Magic Jungle from Death to Smoochy. If you haven't seen the film, the jokes aren't that funny, but then again if you haven't seen the film, you probably haven't lived._

_2. I firmly believe that Oshitari's seiyuu has the ability to make anything sound dirty. Anything. _


	3. Pharoah' Tomb

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Chapter Three: In which Atobe expands his tastes, and Shishido puts physics to use_

_A/N: Hopefully the computer won't spit this back at me again. Take two of my crackfic of joy. Many thanks to all my reviewers who keep me writing even when I feel like burying myself in fangirl shame. Fangirl pride is much better. And extra cookies to my beta gals for all their support and snacks._

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Jirou was aware that his tastes in food were somewhat unorthodox from someone of his social and financial standing. However, he didn't see what Atobe was making such a big fuss over.

"Jirou, what is that made of?"

Jirou frowned at the plate in front of him; honestly, he'd never considered what ingredients actually went into creating a funnel cake. "Well, you know, batter."

"What manner of batter?"

"Funnel cake batter," Jirou sighed. "Just try some. It won't kill you."

Atobe didn't look so sure about that. Admittedly, the amount of grease could probably contribute to clogged arteries, but that sort of damage took years of abuse. Atobe's eyes, however, remained suspiciously narrowed. "And what exactly is on top of it?"  
"Fruit." Jirou happily downed another piece slathered in purplish gelatin.

"That's not a fruit, Jirou. That is ... I don't know what that is."

"It's tripleberry. Three fruits."

Atobe frowned. "Which three?"

Jirou studied a piece. "Well there's a raspberry. And blueberry. And ... another berry."

"Ore-sama will not eat a miscellaneous berry."

Jirou rolled his eyes. "Fine, more for me. Ne, Kabaji, want some?"

Kabaji nodded, extracting a modest piece from the plate. Well, modest for someone of his size. Atobe carefully watched him chew, apparently checking for any signs of eye rolling or foaming at the mouth. Even though Kabaji seemed perfectly content, Atobe still remained apprehensive. Jirou yawned, deciding to switch tactics.

"Jirou, that is obviously draining your energy. Ore-sama demands you stop eating it."

"Mou, Atobe, the sugar will keep me awake," Jirou protested, pouting.

Atobe's eyes narrowed. "You've been speaking with that Rikkai boy again."

An eye roll. "Marui-kun never returns my emails. Just try some." Jirou moved with lightning fast reflexes, shoving a forkful between Atobe's lips. After the initial shock wore off, his face contorted in concentration, as if it took every ounce of strength to fight down his noble digestive system and just swallow. He managed though, eyes still blinking in surprise.

"That is absolutely vile," he stated blankly.

Jirou laughed, eyes losing their drowsiness. "You need to try it with whipped cream to get the full effect." He gleefully offered another piece.

Atobe muttered a few more complaints to himself, then took the fork.

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Contrary to popular opinion at Hyotei, Shishido was not a complete idiot in the ways of romance. He did understand what Choutarou had been trying to do all day; he just wished there were an easy to explain why it wasn't going to work. A few weeks ago, maybe. Hell, definitely. But not now. Not anymore. Still, that was no reason to allow Taki to violate the poor kid.

He also understood why Ohtori wanted to ride the Pharoah's Tomb, unlike some wannabe tennis starlets who refused to let go of the second year's arm.

"Isn't this some kids' ride?" Taki asked.

"It's one of the first rides built in this park," Ohtori explained, "All the animatronics have been refurbished, of course, and the ride treks through almost fifty meters of waterways. It's a classic. You really can't leave the park without riding it once." He stopped for a second, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks as he realized he sounded a little like a park brochure. His eyes met Shishido's, and the blush deepened as he added, "And the last drop is pretty cool."

Taki still seemed unconvinced, "I'm not going to get wet, am I?"

Jesus. Shishido pushed past Taki, making sure to ram into his shoulder. "Just get in the boat, pansy."

"Shut up, shrimp." Taki jumped to get back between Shishido and Ohtori.

"Taki-senpai, if you like you could wait out here. The ride's only about four minutes and--"

"I'm in, I'm in," Taki said hurriedly as the three of them crossed the yellow safety line to step into the circular raft. _Nice try,_ Shishido thought. But Ohtori probably knew that wouldn't work.

Taki slid along the wet bench to sit next to Ohtori, leaning one arm over the edge. Shishido had a pleasant, momentary thought of him snagging his arm on something large and sharp as the ride progressed, pulling him out of the boat and maybe dislocating something. He contemplated sitting between the two of them out of spite, but Ohtori would no doubt take that wrong. He shouldn't encourage him more than he already had. He walked around the pole in the center of the raft that held the safety ring to sit opposite them both, trying to ignore the hurt look on Ohtori's face. A bubbly couple followed the tennis players in, forcing him to sit closer to Taki. They seemed more or less oblivious to his glare.

And then the lot of them were floating into spotlit caverns that probably would have made a real Ancient Egyptian clock the designers upside the head with a 3 ton brick.

As soon as the raft passed the gateway, the riders were struck blind. Shishido couldn't see a thing, and heard no sound except the lapping of the water and the face-sucking the couple next to him had begun as soon as the light disappeared. It made Shishido both violently annoyed and quietly jealous. After a few seconds, he heard Ohtori whisper, "Taki-senpai, you really should keep your hands inside the boat for your safety."

Shishido growled, shifting his weight a little to increase the boat's turning. If they spun a little more to the right...

"I'm fine, Ohtori. Ow!" Shishido felt Taki recoil into him as the other boy yanked his arm back into the boat and thus away from Ohtori.

Huh. So physics did have applications other than tennis.

The raft turned a corner, spotlights now revealing the first of the animatronics: Egyptian slaves carving hieroglyphs in the wall. Their motionless eyes stared at Shishido, almost accusing. He turned away. He was being a good senpai this trip, damn it...

...even though the spotlights illuminated Choutarou's features in a soft, almost mysterious way. The colored lights tinged his hair scarlet and the shadows cast across his eyes would make him look right at home as a spy in a film noir movie. He looked dangerous and beautiful.

Shishido shook his head, closing his eyes. Why had he even shown up? Oh yeah, Atobe. Couldn't let Atobe see him looking weak or beaten, even if he was. God, he was pathetic.

The ride took a rough turn, making Shishido open his eyes long enough to see he was in a room filled with machine-generated fog and cat statues. Oddly enough, the rhinestone cat eyes weren't half as disturbing as the panda people outside. Overhead, a booming voice warned them to beware the curse of something or other that would destroy all who passed this way. The ride dipped down.

Reflexively, Shishido's hand gripped the safety ring in the center of the raft, not realizing the Choutarou's much longer arms had done the same thing, reaching across the ring, thus causing Shishido's hands to land directly on top of them. He pulled back quickly as the raft rocked. Damned if Ohtori hadn't done that on purpose. He wasn't going to make this easy.

A gargled sound effect probably designed to be a mummy's moan echoed through the caverns as the ride neared what was probably its final descent. Good. Get him out of this mildewy ride and somewhere he could properly see Choutarou so he could properly avoid him.

Choutarou, at the moment, was wriggling awkwardly towards the couple next to him. "Shishido-san, Taki-senpai, we're going to want to spin right."

Shishido frowned. "Right?"

"Right! Lean right!"

It was only then Shishido realized he was facing backwards as the raft tipped over rise.

_Crap_.

_The Ellipses Bandit…'s continuing inside jokes_

_I once consumed a "tripleberry" waffle. I have yet to identify the mystery fruit, but I do plan on naming my band Miscellaneous Berry._

_The EllipsesBandit… is always on the back of damn river raft rides. Sorry for making you feel my pain, Shishi._


	4. The Midway

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Chapter Four: In which everyone gets a little advice and Jirou gets a gun_

_A/N: Many funnel cakes to my reviewers and especially microgirl for being the bestest super-beta ever and putting up with my "mild" fangirl tendencies._

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"Gaaaaah!" Gakuto let out another shriek. "Quit it!"

Jirou yawned. "Ne, you're too bouncy, Gakuto. You can't aim straight if you keep bouncing up and down."

"Another game." Gakuto handed the carnival lacky another 200 yen. Jirou sighed and hefted his rifle lazily against his shoulder. Gakuto squinted, taking careful aim, his face matching his hair in color.

The clerk groaned; no one else had been allowed at the paintball shooting gallery game for the last half hour. "Fire," he called without much enthusiasm.

Gakuto let loose a Rambo-worthy barrage of red pellets, shouting inchorent English phrases as he did so. Eventually, the guns ran out of ammunition, and he grinned smugly before noticing that every single duck worth over 100 points was coated in yellow paint.

"Yellow wins again." The clerk handed Jirou another stuffed panda. Jirou added it to the pile of plushies he was resting his head on.

Atobe pretended Jirou's deadshot accuracy wasn't somewhat unnerving and brushed his hair away from his eyes. Kabaji should be back with that beverage by now.

Footsteps squelched behind the buchou. Finally...

_Squelched?  
_Atobe turned to see a soaking wet Shishido standing a few feet behind him, looking about ready to shove his fist through the nearest wall.

"Say it," the dash specialist muttered.

Atobe raised an eyebrow, holding in his snicker. "Say what?"

"Whatever snarky comment you've got stored up. Just-- say it."  
"Ore-sama does not believe this particular situtation requires commentary. Do not drip on ore-sama's shoes."

Shishido slumped across the picnic table from Atobe, making sure to toss his sopping ponytail enough to splash on Atobe's dry clean only shirt. Atobe made a face, brushing himself off as he scooted a few inches away. "So, where is he?"

"Who?" Shishido refused to look at him.

"PoPo the Magic Panda," Atobe sighed. "Whom do you think ore-sama is referring to?" Shishido shrunk even lower. "Posture is important, Ryoh. Please at least try to act like we belong to the same social class."

"Shut up."

From the shooting gallery came the words. "Yellow wins again."

"Gaaaaaaaaah!"

"Here," Atobe waved his hand. "Watch Gakuto lose. That always cheers you up." Shishido folded his arms across his chest. Less wet footsteps sounded behind the two of them. "It's about time, Kabaji. Where have you--"

The sight of his teammate struck Atobe completely dumb for all of ten seconds. After the pause, he asked. "Kabaji, what is that on your head."

In what was one of the longest sentences Atobe had ever heard Kabaji utter, the second year stated, "A hat."

"It has purple panda ears attached to it."

"Uhs."

Atobe put a hand to his forehead, staving off the headache that Shishido's snickering was only increasing. He snatched the fruit juice from Kabaji's hand.

"Sugoi, Kabaji-kun! Where did you get that hat!"

If Atobe did not have reflexes worthy of being Hyotei's captain, he would have dropped the fruit juice. Jirou appeared to have transformed into an enormous lavender panda ambling in his direction. Shishido turned his head to see what had Atobe speechless twice in the same hour and promptly fell off of the bench with a sound something like "Gak!"

From behind the marshmallow-shaped head popped Jirou's confused face. He spared Shishido a glance, then looked back to Kabaji who pointed towards a row of souvenir shops.

"I'm going to get one too. Ne, Atobe, hold him for me while I do, kay? Do you want a hat? I think I saw someone with kangaroo ears too!"

Atobe was not prepared to focus on this particular question as Jirou thrust the oversized plushie into his arms. "Jirou, what is this?"

"Sugoi, ne? If you win enough little ones, they let you trade them in for a big one." Jirou's eyes sparkled in awareness and excitement. If it were anyone else, Atobe would have thrown the panda on the ground and ordered a hundred laps for failure to remember his station.

But it wasn't anyone else, so Atobe had to settle for, "Where did Oshitari and Gakuto go?" He could make Oshitari hold the damn thing.

"Gakuto got mad that I was getting too tired, so Oshitari took him to the Guess Your Age game to win him something. He always wins that game. I was gonna take a nap but then I saw the hats, so I'm gonna get one. I'll be right back!" Jirou grabbed Kabaji's arm, tugging the larger boy away.

Shishido pulled himself up on the bench. Despite now being wet and covered in a good deal of dust, he was laughing.

"What is so amusing?"

"You think I'm having problems today." He dusted himself off, mumbling. "I hate those pandas."

"Ore-sama does not know what you're talking about."

"Uh huh. How come you're holding a four foot plushie, then? Honestly, just admit you like him already. It's not like anyone's gonna say anything bad about _you._ And you're both regulars, so what's the problem?"

Atobe raised an eyebrow, drawing one hand over his face. "So that's what this little spat is all about?"

"Quit it," Shishido smacked his hand away. "The hell do you know?"

"The solution to your problem ... which, by the way, is so ridiculously simple I believe PoPo here could solve it."

"Shut up. What about your problem?"

Atobe sighed, glancing at the stitched on eyes before quickly looking away. Stitched on eyes should not be able to mock. "Ore-sama can hardly expect you to grasp the situation when you choose to sit here spoiling ore-sama's beverage with a rather mildewy odor while Taki probably has poor, little Choutarou cornered on a ferris wheel."

"Ohtori's smarter than that. I don't have to babysit him."

"Really? So where did you leave them?"

"Over by the souvenier shops."

"That row of souvenier shops surrounded by those small, discrete, enclosed photo booths, ah?"  
Shishido pondered this thought for a second, then stood. "I hate you."

Atobe smirked. "And while you're over there, tell Jirou to come retrieve his pet."

"I'm not your damn messenger!" Shishido shouted, walking a step too brisk to be considered casually down the midway.

Atobe turned his attention back to his current problem, choosing to fluff his hair and loosen the collar on his shirt. He was Atobe Keigo and thus perfectly capable of looking alluring and cool while sitting next to a four foot panda.

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"Ohtori-kun!" Jirou launched himself at the second year. "Come help me pick out something for Atobe." Before Ohtori knew exactly how it happened, he was being dragged away from Taki and into a booth of novelty hats, and Kabaji was blocking Taki's path to follow. Jirou-senpai babbled the entire time, "I can't decide which color goes best with his hair, and he won't wear it if it doesn't match."

Ohtori refrained from saying he doubted Atobe would wear one of those hats if ordered to at gunpoint. Then again, if anyone could make him, Jirou-senpai could. "I'm not so sure that Atobe-buchou would--"

"Of course not. That's the fun part," Jirou beamed. "I'd like to get him pink, but the hippo ears aren't that impressive. He needs something bigger." Jirou scanned the shelves. "Ne, can you reach that top shelf for me?"

Ohtori dutifully reached up towards a row of kangaroo ears when he heard Jirou whisper in a voice that was neither his half-asleep slur nor his wide-awake chatter, "It's a good plan, Ohtori-kun, but you forgot something."  
Ohtori looked down, not exactly surprised, but a little taken aback. He'd never heard Jirou-senpai sound so ... focused. "Plan, senpai?"

Jirou nodded. "Everybody just thinks you like Shishido, but it's more than that, right? You want him back on the regulars."

Ohtori debated lying, realized it wouldn't do any good, and then nodded.

Jirou smiled. "You've got Shishido pretty figured out.He won't leave you alone too long as long as he thinks you're in danger from Taki, but you forgot he's not the most important person in your plan."

Ohtori was inclined to disagree with this, but asked anyway, "Then who is?"

"Atobe," Jirou said with the sparkle that always accompanied him saying the buchou's name.

Ohtori thought he had a pretty good conception of Atobe and his motivations. "Atobe-buchou wants to win. He'll let Shishido-san back if he knows he'll win." And Ohtori could make sure that happened.

Jirou shook his head. "Nobody ever gets back on if they've been dropped. It'd make Atobe look like he was playing favorites. He won't do it."

Ohtori knew that, but he didn't plan on giving the buchou much of a choice. He debated how much of his plan he should be discussing with Jirou-senpai, who didn't seem a bit tired at the moment. For now, he decided to play it safe and be a polite, naive kouhai. "Shishido-san doesn't deserve to be dropped, though," he said tentatively.

Jirou snickered. "You're good. Nice inflection. Anyway, I'm guessing you know all that and covered your bases, but I thought I'd warn you that there's gonna be some complications if it works."

"Complications?"

"Shishido's gonna have to lose some face or it'd set a bad example. Just thought you should know." Suddenly, Jirou's eyes widened, returning to their usual over-excited state. "There! Top right, do you see that one?"

Ohtori followed his senpai's finger. "That character was discontinued, senpai. It probably shouldn't be here."

"It's perfect. Could you reach for me?"  
Ohtori obeyed cautiously, handing the hat to Jirou who whispered. "Good luck, Ohtori-kun. You've still got a good shot, but be careful." And with that, Jirou-senpai bolted for the register, snagging Kabaji along the way. Ohtori blinked as Taki-senpai started walking toward him. He knew Atobe would never let Shishido back in as a singles player, but Jirou seemed to be hinting at some larger sacrifice.

Still, it would be nothing Ohtori couldn't handle. Even Atobe with all of his power and influence had weak spots like everyone else, and Ohtori was perceptive enough to see one of the buchou's tricks coming. His more immediate problem was detaching Taki's arm from around his shoulders long enough to corner Shishido-san. He'd need to get back in the vicinity of Mukahi-senpai for that. Barring interruption, Ohtori would soon have Shishido-san in the one place he couldn't run away from this conversation. He smiled as considered his next transition, not paying much attention to his current doubles partner as they walked out of the gift shop.

The sight of Shishido-san's fist connecting with the foam jaw of one of the park's PoPo impersonators forced him abruptly out of his mental haze.

"What's gotten in to--"

Ohtori didn't hear the rest of Taki-senpai's sentence. He flew after Shishido, hoping the dash-specialist's energy gave out before he got too far.

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_The EllipsesBandit...'s continuing Inside Jokes and Commentary_

_1. Wouldn't Jirou with a gun be the most adorably lethal thing in the world? "Aww, look how cute ... crap, he's got a gun! Run for your--! But awww, look at him setting the scope function..." BOOM!_

_2. I believe the entire cast could win a lot of cheap, carnival merchendise playing Guess Your Age Games._

_3. I hate people in animal suits. Hate them, soooooooo much. So disturbing. This entire fist was based on the idea of Shishido knocking one unconscious._


	5. Down the Panda Paths

**_Hyotei and the Happy Panda_**

_Chapter Title: In which Jirou gets a little more direct and everyone's plan gets more complicated._

_A/N: Now the ff.n is back and running with alert systems and the like, I present the new chapter. Thank you all from the bottom of my fangirl heart for your reviews. Extra cookies to my beta gals for helping me fix Jirou to act more ... Jirou in these upcoming chapters. To those of you waiting for the not-so subtle Atoji fluff: Here ya go!_

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Atobe prided himself on his perception, but he must have been slacking to not hear Jirou sneak up behind him. Either that or Jirou's stealth had improved considerably. Thus, he was thoroughly surprised when the novelty hat was slammed down over his perfectly coiffed hair, accompanied by a shout of "Ta da!"

Atobe shut his eyes, breathing deeply. "Jirou, are there panda ears attached to this hat?"

"No, you'd look silly like that. I got you the moose antlers."

Atobe felt the vein on his forehead throb. "Moose?"

"They're blue. They match your shirt," Jirou offered.

"That's very considerate. Please remove it."

Jirou's smile quirked upwards the way it did when Atobe was walking into a trap. "You know, you'd have to take it off if you went on one of the roller coasters. Or it might accidentally fall off and blow away and you'd never see it again."

"Kabaji."

"Uhs."

The second year obediently removed the hat from Atobe's head. The buchou pretended to ignore Jirou's sulk. Gracing the lower class with his presence for a day, he could tolerate. Dressing like a common tourist, he could not.

"Mou, Atobe, they're all really safe. And your hair's already messed up from the hat so you can't use that excuse."

Atobe felt a desperate urge to find a mirror. He started to stand.

Jirou rolled his eyes. "Hold still." He leaned over the expanse of the picnic table, balancing on one hand while using the other to rearrange the hairs that had been pushed out of place. Atobe willed his heartbeat to slow down, at least enough that Jirou wouldn't notice. Still, he couldn't ignore the feel of those deft fingers sliding through his hair or the sticky sweet smell from the funnel cakes that still lingered on Jirou's breath.

Jirou sat down all too quickly, his eyes beginning to take on that glazed look that accompanied his narcoleptic phases. "It's fixed," he mumbled. "I could fix it after a ride too."

Atobe sighed. "That will not be necessary."

Jirou opened one eye. "You're not scared of heights."

"Of course ore-sama is not--"

"That wasn't a question, Atobe. I'm just telling you that's not what you're scared of." Jirou shrugged, laying his head down on his folded arms. "You're not afraid of heights. You _like_ being up high where everyone can see you. You're just scared of the ground."

"What exactly do you mean by that?"  
"Nothing." Jirou nestled deeper into the sleeve of his bright blue jersey.

"That doesn't work on ore-sama, Jirou," Atobe snapped. "Explain youself."

Only years of experience allowed Atobe to understand Jirou's mumbled speech. "You're not afraid of heights, you're afraid something's gonna go wrong. You're so busy worrying you'll fall that you can't even enjoy the view. You're like that about lots of stuff."

Atobe's eyes narrowed. "Ore-sama most certainly --"

And then Jirou was kissing him.

Right there. In public. In front of everyone.

Atobe jumped back. He had to learn to remember how fast the boy could move when he wanted to. "_Jesus, Jirou! _What on earth do you think--"

"See?" Jirou slumped back onto his side of the bench. "You're so busy worrying somebody could have seen us you don't even remember I kissed you."

Atobe remembered fairly distinctly, but he was a little preoccupied at the moment with scanning the crowds for paparazzi to concentrate on a kiss. Other than a few parents removing their children from the area and a couple of teenage girls giggling, no one seemed to be paying them any attention. Still, one could never be certain. "Jirou, you have no idea what you might have done. Ore-sama must uphold a certain image or-- are you even listening!"  
Jirou's only response was a stifled snore.

"_Jirou_!"

Still nothing. Atobe could feel the steam issuing from his ears. There was only one way to stop this nonsense and prove that there was a very big difference between an amusement park ride and a relationship that could possibly destroy his very promising future.

The buchou took a breath, willing his voice to return to its normal, elegant timbre. "Jirou?"  
Jirou's head raised a fraction of an inch "Mn?"

"What's the tallest ride in this park?

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The panda picked the wrong moment to decide Shishido needed a hug.

He thought he could handle it. Thought he could do the good senpai thing and help Ohtori out without this horrible awkwardness. Thought he could let Ohtori down gently, and not get upset or jealous or worry about Taki or anything. But the way they walked out of that shop together, all cozy and smiling and in full view of everyone... Shishido felt the last of his willpower snap. The panda guy was an unfortunate bystander in the matter.

It wasn't until after the "fwump" sound effect of foam suit hitting asphalt registered that Shishido realized he had just laid out an icon in front of Ohtori, Taki, dozens of bright-eyed children, and several security guards.

Dropped or not, Shishido was still the fastest person at Hyotei. He ran for it.

At first he wasn't sure where he was going. He certainly didn't feel like putting up with Atobe's crap anymore today, so that was out. Maybe he should just leave. He could think up some excuse to tell Ohtori later, and no one else was likely to notice or care. He'd already made his point that he wasn't intimidated by Atobe or any of his latest hanger-ons, so he had no reason to stay.

And from the dreamy expression on Ohtori's face, he had every reason to go or risk being expelled for violence.

Decided, Shishido started following the arrows pointing to the exit.

And was almost immediately stopped by the jingle of the Jelly Bean's new single from his cell phone. He should really remember to change that, but the song was damn catchy. He fumbled the phone out of his still damp pocket -- grateful it was ringing at all after his unexpected drenching -- and glanced at the caller ID. Oh, this should be fun.

"What?"

"Is that any way to greet your captain?"  
"Screw you. What do you want?"

"Ore-sama is having a gathering at the SkyDrop. You will attend."

"I'm going home, Atobe."

"You can leave after the ride."

"What's with you? I thought you didn't debase your noble self with kiddie rides."

Atobe was unusually silent for a moment. "Ore-sama is making an exception. And if ore-sama is riding this contraption, so are you. Move." The phone clicked off. Shishido resisted the urge to pitch his cell phone into the nearest fountain, but only because the way his day was going, he'd probably hit a duck and be arrested for animal cruelty.

Where the hell was the stupid SkyDrop, anyway?

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Taki was winded, tired, and generally annoyed. It wasn't supposed to be this hard to get a date with your doubles partner. That was practically why people started playing doubles at all!

"Oy, Ohtori. Let's stop for a second!" Taki huffed, grabbing the second year's arm. "If Shishido wants to throw a hissy fit, just let him. He gets over these things."

"Taki-senpai, I'm sorry, but I need to catch him before he leaves--"

"He's straight."

That stopped Ohtori. Just because Taki was pretty didn't mean he was an idiot. You had to be blind not to see what the kid was up to. The second year turned around, eyes wide.

"It's true." Taki put his hands on his hips. "Don't believe me?"

Ohtori stammered, "Not really, Taki-senpai."

Taki closed the distance between himself and Ohtori. "Fine. But I'm just saying you're wasting your time with him when there are other..." He slid one hand up Ohtori's arm "...options around."

Naturally, Ohtori's cell phone rang at exactly that moment. Ohtori jumped backwards to answer it, while Taki folded his arms, frowning.

"Hai, senpai. That'll be fine. We'll be right there." Ohtori hung up the phone. "That was Jirou-senpai. We're all supposed to meet him and Atobe-buchou at the SkyDrop."

"His prissiness is getting on a ride? What's the occassion?"

"I'm not sure." Ohtori looked thoughtful for a second. "We'd better hurry, senpai. We shouldn't keep him waiting." And the guy tore off again. Taki sighed. He hadn't run this much since he'd been caught making out with a second year while he was supposed to be doing racquet forms.

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_The EllipsesBandit...'s continuing inside jokes and commentary:_

_1. You know, most of the PoT pairs I ship and can point at the show and go "There! Right there! See? Totally together." Not Atoji. No real evidence except I think it'd be really damn cute. And I'm okay with that._

_2. Atobe's headgear is in no way inspired by my reindeer Atobe Christmas plushie with antlers. Of course not. I just happened to have the complete Christmas set minus Echizen. Moose antlers are cute._


	6. SkyDrop

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Chapter 6: In which everyone deals with acrophobia in their own special way_

_A/N: Much love to all my reviewers. Hope I manage to live up to some of the ideas I've heard and that my concept of Ohtori isn't too far out for most. So everyone knows, I'm basing the SkyDrop loosely off a standard Tower of Doom type ride, but with four different faces. It's creative engineering and not a plot device ... I swear.  
_

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"Yuushi, this is dumb. I want to go home," Gakuto sighed. Stupid Atobe and his stupid mandatory field trips. Gakuto wanted a shower, possibly in hot disinfectent after his run-in with those creepy kids. But no, had to wait for--

"Mukahi-senpai, could I talk to you for a minute?" Ohtori's congenial face appeared above his.

Gakuto rolled his eyes. "What?"

Ohtori glanced at Yuushi. "I have a message for your mother from mine."

Gakuto's eyes narrowed immediately, only barely registering his double's partner's confusion. Stomping away from the crowds, Gakuto snapped at Ohtori. "What?"

"Senpai, would you please ride with Taki when we go on Atobe's ride," Ohtori asked meekly -- as if he was actually asking.

Gakuto still felt it necessary to put up a fight. "What? Why?"

Ohtori gave an innocent blink. "I suppose you don't have to, senpai. Anyway, did you know our mothers are meeting for mah-jongg again this Thursday? Don't you hate how much they talk about us? I heard they were thinking of inviting Oshitari-senpai's mother to join."

Gakuto gritted his teeth. Damn upstart kid. Of course, if Gakuto helped him now, Ohtori'd probably nab Shishido. And if Ohtori had a boyfriend too, he couldn't exactly use Gakuto's for blackmail anymore. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad ...

"Fine," he growled.

Ohtori bowed deeply. "Thank you so much, senpai."

"Whatever." Gakuto stomped back towards Yuushi as Ohtori darted away, probably to avoid being seen by Taki, who was returning with two overpriced bottles of water, looking around perplexed. Honestly, this dating stuff wasn't that hard, Gakuto thought to himself. If someone as socially clueless as Yuushi could handle it, he assumed just about anyone could figure it out.

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Shishido sauntered with as much dignity as he could manage towards the SkyDrop, determined not to talk to Ohtori. He'd ride the stupid ride, then make a break for it. Besides, Ohtori looked busy, chatting amiably with the ride's attendent. Ohtori was unique at Hyotei in that skill: he could talk to anyone, no matter who they were or how much money their parents made or didn't make, and in a few minutes, they'd be friends. Shishido, on the other hand, managed to offend people regardless of race, religion, or financial status -- usually in under five minutes. He'd grown perversely proud of this characteristic, actually.

"You do realize you're staring," Atobe said from behind him, making Shishido jump.

"I was just wondering when we can get on with this so I can go home," the shorter boy snarled.

Atobe raised an eyebrow, smirking. Then he raised one hand in the air, snapping his fingers. The Hyotei members turned to face him, out of practice if not awe. "We will begin," Atobe announced. With limited rolls of eyes, the regulars filed towards the ride, which had been cleared of all other occupants for the occasion. The SkyDrop was divided into four sections, each on a different side of the five story pole. Taking a seat in an empty quarter, Shishido was half-relieved and half-disgusted to see Taki snag Ohtori's arm. That meant he'd probably end up riding with Kabaji or something. At least he wouldn't have to worry about making conversation.

Suddenly, Gakuto's shriek cut through air. "You're such an _idiot, _Yuushi!"

Oshitari, for his part, looked a mixture of stunned and baffled.

Gakuto rolled his eyes. "I can't _stand _listening to you anymore. I give up! Taki!" Gakuto grabbed the arm of a very wide-eyed Taki. "I'm riding with you instead. Let's go!"  
Taki started to protest, but was no match for the red-haired steam roller that propelled him away from Ohtori. _Crap... that meant._

"Shishido-san, can I ride with you, then?" Ohtori beamed, hopping into the seat next to Shishido and pulling the safety bar over both their heads before Shishido could answer. Fair enough, since the only syllable Shishido felt capable of at the moment was "...er."

Oh, he hoped this ride was a short one.

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Atobe supposed he should be focusing on Jirou and whatever the hell that kiss meant. However, at the moment his mind was preoccupied by the thought: _We should have reached the top by now, shouldn't we?_

However against all definition of logic and thought, the damnable contraption kept moving up. The agonizingly slow motor hummed, punctuated by occasional jerks for no reason Atobe could discern. He craned his neck up, his stomach twisting as he could still see a fair distance of height to be gained. And below him ...

Atobe's neck snapped up abruptly. Right. Not looking below him.

"Mou, Atobe, are you okay?"

"Ore-sama is fine."

"Close your eyes," Jirou suggested. That, however, only meant Atobe's imagination would provide the distance between his glorious self and and the very hard ground. Atobe instead chose to stare at one of his hands gripping the orange plastic safefty bar. He should schedule a manicure if he lived through this.

And then, the machine clunked to a sudden stop.

"Atobe, did you just ... squeak?"

"No."

Atobe refused to look at Jirou, watching his knuckles turn whiter and whiter. He braced himself to not shriek like a five-year-old girl.

He waited. Thirty seconds passed.

Then another thirty.

Then a full minute.

After two and a half minutes, Atobe finally snapped, "Is this thing actually going to move!"

Jirou yawned. "I heard it gets stuck sometimes. They should--"

"_Stuck_!"

"Well, it's a newer ride. They might still be getting the bugs out."

"_Bugs_! There should be no _bugs_! Ore-sama does not ride rides that contain _bugs_!"

Jirou sighed. "They'll get it running in a minute." Jirou's head started to tip to the left, using the safety guard as a pillow.

"Don't you dare fall asleep!" Atobe warned, though he could already hear the other boy's snores. He'd try to shake Jirou awake, but that would involve relinquishing his grip on one of the handles.

Atobe felt his pulse double, his breathing coming more and more rapidly. This was no way for the heir to the Atobe empire to die.

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"We're going to die!" Taki shrieked for about the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

Gakuto had given up responding, since Taki wasn't listening anyway. He was going to kill Ohtori for this.

"God, can't they just get us down? Don't they have a safety or something?"

"Well if they do, screaming isn't going to turn it on."

"How are you so calm!"

Gakuto sighed. "Look either we get down alive whenever they get this thing working, or we crash to our deaths. I don't want to spend the last minutes of my life with a headache cuz you can't stop screeching." Also, Gakuto could afford to be calm. Getting stuck up here was undoubtedly a trap; either Ohtori's or Jirou's. He wasn't sure which yet.

"God, can't you be serious for once?" Taki huffed, throwing his head back against the padded headrest. "You don't want to die before you make up with Oshitari, do you?"

"Huh? Oh, right."

"What do you mean, 'oh right'? What'd he do anyway?"

Gakuto supposed Ohtori hadn't mentioned anything about a code of secrecy. "Nothing. Ohtori just asked me to ride with you so he could molest Shishido or something."

"What!"

Gakuto shrugged.

"Why'd you listen to him!"

"Because I thought it would be funny. Your face is a really funny color right now."

"You ... you suck," Taki eventually spat out.

"Yeah?" Gakuto raised an eyebrow. "In 3rd grade you knew I liked Yuki-chan, and you pushed her off the swings and then she wouldn't talk to us anymore."

"Well, she was a real brat--"

"And in fifth grade you told the girl I liked that my parents adopted me from a traveling circus--"

"That was the week _you_ said--"

"And then last year you told me Yuushi only dated guys who were taller than him!"

"Only cuz I used to think he was kinda hot!"

"Oh that makes it so much--" Gakuto stopped. "What do you mean 'used to think.'?"

Taki looked uncomfortable. "Well, you have to admit he's let his hair get a little weird. It used to be nicer and--"

"There's nothing wrong with Yuushi's hair!" True, the series of high speed rides had blown most of it behind him so that he looked permanently like he was zooming at fifty miles an hour, but today was an exception.

"I have some really good conditioner that might work. I can show you where I --"

"I'm _not _fixing his hair! It's fine!"

"Suit yourself," Taki sighed. The drama seemed to have calmed him down considerably. He kicked at the bottom of the car. Gakuto, meanwhile, refused to look at him, preferring to contemplate how to send a moonsault into Ohtori's chin. Or Shishido's chin, maybe. This was all his fault.

Eventually, Taki asked, "So you want to come play video games this weekend?"

Gakuto let out a huff. "You got that new 2D fighter?"

"_Hissing Cockroach, Flying Monkey_."

"Yeah, I'm in."

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Oshitari could hear just enough of his neighbors' conversation floating downwind to be insulted. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his hair. And as soon as today was over he could brush it back into some semblance of normality. Till then, he considered the situation hopeless.

Similar to his chances at engaging in some sort of conversation while waiting for the miserable excuse for a staff to fix this death trap.

He started talking, more to pass the time than anything else. "This is ridiculous. I have much better things to do with my time. You know, my sister offered to take me to a concert with her today. There's an orchestra from St. Petersburg touring Japan right now. They play a phenomenal selection of Stravinsky pieces."

"Uhs."

Oshitari wasn't sure Kabaji knew any other words and continued as if no one had spoken. "They have a guest pianist in. You might not be familiar with most of his works, but his grasp of technique is flawless."

"Rachmaninov."

Oshitari blinked, peering over his glasses at his seatmate. "You ... heard the performance?"

"Uhs."

"Oh." He hadn't predicted that one. "Ah... what did you think?"

"Flat."

Oshitari couldn't quite help the elitist smirk on his face. "I suppose somone unfamiliar with the genre might have that opinion, but if one pays attention to the details. His stacatto for example is --"

"Stilted."

"Precise."

Kabaji shrugged, seeming to indicate he didn't care what Oshitari thought, which was not satisfactory because Oshitari was right. "Well, what about his control of dynamics during the andante portions?"

"Controlled. Forced."

"It wasn't forced! That piece is the standard to which great pianists aspire. Few can manage to pick up the subtleties--"

"Nothing new."

"Nothing new? What did he need that was new? As if you've heard it performed better."

"Zhang."

_Zhang? _"You mean Boa Zhang? That prodigy from Beijing? Please, she's a fad."

"Talent."

"Hype." What was it about talking with Kabaji that made him start speaking in one word sentences. "In a few years no one will have ever heard of her."

Another unconcerned shrug.

Oshitari glared, adjusting his glasses and getting his fingers tangled in the damn strap. "Next you'll be telling me you enjoyed that amateur performance _La Boheme_ last spring."

"Uhs."

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_The EllipsesBandit...'s continuing inside jokes and commentary_

_ 1. Don't ask about the origins of the Hissing Cockroach, Flying Monkey video game. Just. Don't. Ask. Also hope nobody minds me making Gakuto and Taki friends. Everybody has at least one friend they don't really like but can't really ditch at this point. Gakuto won the prize this round.  
_

_2. For the record, I think there's a lot wrong with Yuushi's hair, but everyone's entitled to their own opinion._

_ 3. My knowledge of classical music is limited to old high school band classes. I just though hearing Kabaji say "Rachmaninov" would be cool. All names are quite made up.   
_


	7. Apex

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Chapter 7: In which everyone deals with their avoidance issues_

_A/N: Much thanks to everyone for sticking with me. Microgirl rocks for beta-ing and for baking Nana Olaf's chocolate white chocolate chip cookies._

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"Shishido-san, is it okay if we talk?"  
Shishido shifted in his seat, checking the security of his safety bar. To his dismay, it appeared to be working just fine. "Sure, but ... this ride's gonna drop any second, so we should probably wait for--"

"The ride isn't going to drop for another twenty minutes," Ohtori stated. "I asked them to hold it."

Shishido blinked. "Why would you do that?"

"Because every time I've tried to talk to you since the Fudomine match, you make up some excuse and run away."

"That's not true," Shishido said nervously. "I mean, we can't hang out so much now that I'm not on the regulars, but we talk. Yesterday, we were talking about those new shoes in that magazine. Damn dash wears mine down so fast, I have to keep blowing my allowance on new ones..."

"I know, Shishido-san, but that wasn't what I wanted to talk about yesterday."

"... because my tread is shot on this pair. I swear my mom's gonna kill me if I ask for another though..."

"I'm sure she'll understand, Shishido-san. But, what I was going to ask was--"

"...you really think so? Cuz after I bombed that bio test I'm not so sure. Hey how'd your English exam go?"  
"I got an A, senpai." Ohtori had switched from "Shishido-san" to "senpai." That probably wasn't good. And Shishido was running out of ways to redirect the conversation. "Thank you for your help studying."

"Yeah, no problem. It was always kinda easy for me. Don't know what Atobe's problem is with it, though. He says he likes German better, now, but I think it's just because he can't control his accent in English. Honestly, that guy--"

"Shishido-san!"

"What?" Shishido pretended to be surprised by Ohtori's sudden snap. If he kept acting ignorant, maybe Ohtori would give up.

"Do you like me, Shishido-san?"

_Crap. _"Uh, sure... I mean..."

"Are you moving to another school?"

That one was unexpected. He answered warily, "Not that I'm aware of..."

Ohtori took a breath. "Are you straight?"

Shishido was suddenly glad of the safety bar that kept him from falling out of the car. That wasn't something people at Hyotei _asked_. I mean you guessed and hypothesized and snickered but you never actualy _asked. _And on the tennis team, most people made assumptions. The only person who might ... oh...

"You asked Taki, didn't you?"  
Ohtori studied his shoes. "I wouldn't say 'asked,' but he told me ..."

At least Shishido could clear this up quickly. It'd even let him stall for some more time. "Last year Taki asked me out, and I turned him down. He assumes things to make himself feel better." Shishido couldn't help the snicker that escaped.

"Why did you turn him down?" Ohtori asked, his eyes still locked in all seriousness on Shishido. The older boy studied the grafitti on the bottom of the car. "KA heart MB" "Jun was here"-- some people had too much time on their hands.

"Because I don't really like him. Besides, I don't know where he's been."

Ohtori exhaled. "So then the only reason why you've been avoiding me is that you were dropped."

"I'm not avoiding you! It's just ... it'll be easier for you if we don't hang out so much anymore."

Ohtori nodded. "You're right."

Shishido wasn't sure what reaction he'd expected. Maybe some sort of valiantly chivalrous defense -- Ohtori always seemed the noble, self-sacrificing type. But agreement? That was ... strange. And extremely humbling.

Ohtori continued. "I want to play at Nationals this year, Shishido-san. And next year, I want to be captain. And I know that school politics won't let me unless I play by the rules. So I know I can't go out with someone who's been dropped."

That didn't hurt. Nope. Shishido was not going to act as if someone were twisting a knife in his sternum. "Yeah. Well, I'm glad you understand--"

"Which is why we should get you back on the regulars as soon as possible."

So maybe Ohtori hadn't learned as much about Hyotei as Shishido first thought. "People don't get back on the regulars, Ohtori. I appreciate the thought, but it just doesn't happen. It's never happened."

Ohtori smirked, an expression Shishido had never seen on him before. "Then we'll make history, Shishido-san."

"Sakaki-sensei won't let me back on. Hell, even if he did, I doubt Atobe would allow it." Shishido had put enough of a stain on Atobe's name for one year, and the buchou didn't forget when you failed him. Especially not when his slot had been given to Jirou.

"Not in your old singles spot, no," Ohtori said, "but he'd let you in if you played doubles."

Shishido felt as if the ride had already dropped out from under him. "_Doubles_. Ohtori, that's ... look I'm really crap at doubles."

"I could teach you, Shishido-san," Ohtori hurried. "We could keep practicing together."  
"It won't work," Shishido stated, continuing to study the bottom of the car. Ohtori had to realize there wasn't a force on earth strong enough to to sate Atobe's pride when he felt offended. Maybe if Shishido wore a PoPo costume to school for a week...

"I can make it work," Ohtori said with that certainty possessed only by the incredibly naive and the incredibly cunning. Shishido was still working out which group Ohtori belonged in. Maybe both. "Shishido-san, I can get you back on the regulars. And when I do... will you go on a date with me?"

For a second, Shishido felt as though his stomach had just dropped five stories. And then he realized it was because his stomach --and the rest of him-- was currently in the process of dropping five stories.

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Normally, Atobe considered himself fairly skilled at determining when Jirou was faking narcolepsy and when he was genuinely too bored to stay awake. However, at the moment his perceptive skills were being hampered by his inability to move a single muscle in his body. He couldn't look down without being reminded of the ground. He couldn't look up without remembering how high the top looked from the ground. He couldn't shut his eyes without imagining himself much higher.

The only solution was to look at Jirou.

Jirou appeared to be sleeping peacefully, completely unconcerned with the force of gravity. Atobe did realize that it was more likely Jirou could sleep because he knew this damn ride was a set up. The thought was oddly comforting, since it meant Atobe would be getting down alive and able to exact retribution on the party responsible.

That thought calmed him down a little. His heart rate hadn't returned to normal, but at least he no longer felt in danger of passing out from hyperventilating. He tried to move his eyes away, but found they were quite content watching a few wisps of hair dance next to the corner of Jirou's lips. This, of course, only served to remind him of how those lips had felt pressed against his -- a sensation which was a little hazy in his mind. It made Atobe want to refresh the memory by trying it again, which was _not _an option.

Damn Jirou. He'd been like this for as long as Atobe had known him. Jirou didn't believe in being afraid -- of heights or anything else. If something made Jirou feel anxious, he had two solutions: sleep until the problem went away or leap in and attack until Jirou's anxiety went away.

Jirou had demonstrated the principle quite clearly in second grade when some bullies had picked on him for being afraid of a spider that crawled up the drinking fountain. Jirou convinced his parents to buy him a pet tarantula, whom he named Gilbert and snuck into school the next day. Of course, even then Jirou was clumsy and tripped in the cafeteria, "accidentally" spilling the poor creature onto the lead bully's lunch tray. None of the teachers blamed Jirou for the incident. They never did. He hadn't served a day of detention in his life.

And now Jirou had to go and push Atobe to follow the same strategy. Atobe's afraid of heights? Strap him onto a roller coaster. Atobe's afraid of dating a teammate? Kiss him in public. Jirou just didn't understand that the methodology was instrinsically flawed. And Atobe didn't understand Jirou. At all. Ever.

He didn't understand how Jirou could sleep through every practice and still be selected over Atobe to join the Newcomer's Tournament. He didn't understand how Jirou dealt with people laughing at him every game, even if it did throw the opponent off. He didn't understand how Jirou could risk every bone in his body with his ridiculous volleys, lose a match, and still be content. More than content. Be ecstatic.

And most of all he didn't understand how Jirou could risk his entire inheritance for one stolen kiss.

Jirou shifted, apparently annoyed by his inability to move his shoulders. One arm struggled to break free, only succeeding in brushing a hand over Atobe's knee. _Sleeping, of course_. Still, removing the hand would require Atobe to let go of one of the safety handles, which he couldn't do --which Jirou knew he couldn't do. And that _was_ the only reason he wasn't removing the hand.

It was about then that Atobe realized he'd spent at least ten minutes thinking about and being frustrated with Jirou instead of remembering the unforgiving concrete below him. The only irregulariy in his breathing were occasional irritated huffs. His heart now only accelerated when Jirou's hand occasionally twitched its way further up Atobe's thigh. Once again, Jirou had snuck in a victory under Atobe's nose.

If he were able, he probably would have stormed off at Jirou's audacity and outright manipulation. As it was, he was forced to stay seated and contemplate the idea that the ride wasn't really so frightening once he was on it.

And then the click of the release mechanism sounded above him, and Atobe changed his mind.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The EllipsesBandit...'s continuing inside jokes and commentary_

_1. Whisper, the initials are for you and the crackdom you got me hooked on. If other readers can't figure them out, think Rikkai thoughts. Not too much though, cuz that can't be healthy._

_2. The EllipsesBandit... was once a tarantula wrangler for children's birthday parties. Tarantulas are cute and harmless. Microgirl, his name is for you._

_3. Anybody who has heard Keigo's newish single Charm Point will understand why I'm having him enjoy German. I don't know why he's counting in German on the song. I just think it sounds cool. Ein! Zwei! Ein Zwei Drei Fir! (forgive mis-spellings, the EllipsesBandit... never took German) _


	8. Back in the Atobemobile

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_**  
**Chapter Eight: In which metaphors and the importance of safety are discussed._

_A/N: Almost done. One more chapter and an epilogue! Thanks everyone for sticking with me through this. Work has been nightmarishly busy and thus posting is getting slower. Still, should be done by next week ... I say not for the first time. Microgirl will kick me if I don't finish uplading this soon. She's good at that. _

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Gakuto and Taki turned to stare at each other as the ride screeched to a halt.

"Was that you?" Gakuto snickered.

"No! I thought it was you!" Taki snapped

"It wasn't me. It came from the other side!"

"Well you're the only one I know that can hit that note."

A moment passed as the two boys contemplated what this meant. Then, they fumbled with their seatbelts, Gakuto laughing as Taki's refused to disconnect, keeping him three steps behind as they raced over to Atobe's car.

The buchou's complexion was about the same as the tasteless, odorless oatmeal Gakuto's aunt still prepared when his family visited. Atobe's hair wasn't fairing much better. Gakuto and Taki both had to cover their mouths with their hands to hold back their snickers, though Atobe regained lucidity quickly enough to shoot a laser beam glare at Taki, who foolishly pushed in front of the smaller Gakuto. Check. Not laughing.

From the other side of the ride, Shishido came racing over, looking like the devil was at his heels. Confirming Gakuto's suspicions, Ohtori followed at a trot. He was going to kill the second year for this. Kabaji followed accompanied by an offended looking Yuushi. However, Gakuto didn't have time to contemplate his doubles partner at the moment.

Next to Atobe, Jirou's eyes twitched as he tried to stretch, then blinked his eyes in confusion. "Is it over? What was that noise?"

"Kabaji!"

"Uhs."

The hulking second year efficiently unhooked the safety bar over Atobe and Jirou. Atobe managed to get his belt unbuckled and tentatively test his legs while taking very slow breaths and using Kabaji's arm as a bolster. Once he was sure he was not going to completely humiliate himself, he smoothed down his hair.

It was Shishido, of course, who asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Atobe, was that girly scream _you_?"

Atobe's eyes seemed to gain a reddish tinge to them. He glared at Shishido, then at Ohtori, and then surprisingly turned to Jirou who had just fumbled out of the seat, and started to babble. "You guys, I missed it! We have to go again! Come on, somebody ride with me!"

Atobe grabbed Jirou's wrist with one hand, raised the other in the air, and announced, "Ore-sama declares this outing over!" He snapped his fingers and dragged a confused Jirou out of the ride's gates.

Ohtori watched them leave with the expression people got when they realized they were pretty much guaranteed being kicked off the regulars. "I'll just... go make sure they get out okay," he mumbled hurriedly, dashing out. Shishido shouted his name and followed.

The four remaining regulars watched the exodus. "Great," Gakuto muttered. "Don't suppose anyone remembers we came in Atobe's car?"

"I give up," Taki sighed, the first sensible thing Gakuto had heard him say in well over a year. "You guys want a ride home? I'm calling my mom."

Yuushi adjusted his glasses. "That would be lovely." Then he looked at Gakuto, an eyebrow raised, "Provided ..."

Gakuto really hated it when Yuushi just expected him to know what his crazy tensai brain was thinking. "Provided what?"

"Provided you ... aren't still ... mad at me?"

Gakuto fumed. "I wasn't mad at you! Jeez, Yuushi, you can't even tell the difference between when I'm pretending to be mad and when I'm really mad?!"

Yuushi backed up a step. "I just wasn't sure..."

"Well, see if you can tell now! Let's go, Taki!" Gakuto grabbed Taki's arm and dragged him off.

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Oshitari shook his head. Gakuto was beyond the analytical abilities of even someone possessing his extraordinary IQ. According to precedent, however, he would have forgotten about this incident by 3:30 tomorrow afternoon. So instead of worrying, Oshitari turned to Kabaji.

"It's still early yet, and I doubt my sister has left for the show. I can call and see if she can pick us up if you'd like to accompany us. I'd be interested in hearing your thoughts on the soloist this evening."

"Uhs."

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Jirou couldn't fathom what had gone wrong. He'd followed the instructions in every shoujo manga he'd ever read. He picked the right setting, made the first move so Atobe didn't have to, allowed him time to think. It should have worked! Maybe it only worked on girls, Jirou thought belatedly. But surely Atobe was enough _like _a girl for it to work. Or maybe he'd underestimated Atobe's acrophobia. But Jirou'd done his research thoroughly. Atobe shouldn't be angry with him.

Jirou stumbled after the hastily retreating buchou, his wrist still locked in Atobe's grip. He was left apologizing to the throngs of people Atobe disregarded as they flew out the amusement park gates and toward the waiting limousine.

Atobe pointed at the door, ordering Jirou in without a word. Enough of that. Jirou resorted to his usual defense when plans went awry. He started laughing.

"What?" Atobe snapped.

"I'm sorry, Atobe, but I can't take you all angry and serious when your hair looks like that." Jirou clutched at his stomach as Atobe's face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarassment. Jirou watched the two emotions fight it out while he giggled. Eventually, the latter won, and Atobe huffed into the car with an, "Are you coming?"

Jirou wiped tears out of his eyes. "Aren't we gonna wait for everyone else?"  
"No."

The volley specialist shrugged, unsure of this development. In a soundproof limousine, Atobe either wanted to scream at him or make out, and Jirou was rapidly losing hope for the latter. Still, he didn't have any other way to get home, and he supposed after everything he put Atobe through today, he probably deserved this. Shoulders slumped, Jirou slid into the seat across from Atobe.

Atobe didn't look at him, not directly anyway. Instead, the buchou spent a good ten minutes staring at the mirrored walls of the limousine, repositioning his hair into its usual style. Jirou considered offering to help, but didn't feel like being yelled at again. He also considered pretending to sleep, but Atobe knew he couldn't actually sleep with this much tension in the air, so he instead opted for surreptitiously observing Atobe by watching the walls.

Once satisfied, Atobe called the driver on the intercom, ordering him to drive to the Atobe estate. Jirou blinked; why weren't they going to Jirou's home first? He didn't have time to analyze this, however, before his captain turned to him.

"Your metaphor is flawed," Atobe began, pointing a finger at Jirou.

"I had a metaphor?"

"Your little heights metaphor. It's flawed."

"Oh, that. That wasn't my metaphor. I borrowed it from Ohtori-kun."

Atobe looked a little confused at this, but shook his head quickly. "Either way, ore-sama will not be participating in such a ridiculous diversion again. There are perfectly sane means of entertainment a person of status can engage in that do not result in severe cases of nauseau. And as for ... _this_," Atobe gestured to the space between him and Jirou, "whatever _this_ is, a lifetime of riding those damn contraptions doesn't compare to the degree of foolishness acting on _this_ would imply. It's dangerous and we stand to risk everything..."

Jirou sulked as the monologue continued, naturally causing him to tune out. In the years of their friendship, Jirou had learned to pick out the Cliff's Notes version of an Atobe speech. If Atobe didn't want to go out with him, that was fine. Jirou didn't want to date someone that cowardly anyway. Even if that someone was the only one perceptive enough to see through Jirou's guises. Even if that someone was the only person at school who didn't brush him off as an eccentric narcoleptic. Even if that someone had eyes the exact color of a hurricane. It didn't matter if he was too cowardly to face his own emotions, Jirou told himself. Atobe could have fun listing his excuses. Again.

"... so _you_ are going to be extremely careful, and there will be no more of these amusement park stunts, ah? I'd rather my parents not find out via some peasant tabloid."  
"Huh?" Jirou blinked. According to his estimate, Atobe should only now be getting to to his parents disowning him and his life of delivering ramen to commoners to survive.

Atobe pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Honestly, Jirou, how is anyone supposed to confess if you can't stay awake long enough to hear it?"

"I'm awake," Jirou rushed. "I just ... thought maybe I wasn't. You're not scared?"

Atobe moved to sit next to Jirou. "We're both intelligent people. I believe we can avoid getting caught."

"I didn't mean just about our parents," Jirou said, looking Atobe in the eye. "I meant all _this_," Jirou repeated Atobe's gesture, "too."

Atobe closed his eyes and pulled one hand back through his hair, completely ruining the damage control he'd just performed. Then he returned Jirou's gaze. "Terrified."

The kiss that followed did not imply fireworks or lily fields or anything else overzealous manga-ka chose to draw in the backgrounds of first kisses. In fact, by what standards Jirou had, the kiss was executed in a rather sloppy manner with a bit too much saliva and not quite enough aim. It was not the way someone as awe-inspiring as Atobe was rumored to kiss. It was, Jirou realized, much closer to the way one might execute a first kiss: rushed, blind, and adorably inexperienced.

Atobe pulled back, completely failing to hide his insecurities as Jirou snickered, though he did try to be as discrete as possible in wiping his lip.

"You know," Atobe huffed, "this would be much easier if you would quit laughing at every romantic gesture."

"I can't help it!" Jirou giggled.

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "If you tell anyone..."

Jirou decided it was about time he put his agility skills to the test, pouncing to sit on a very surprised Atobe's lap. "I'm not gonna tell anyone and no one in the club will say anything and our parents won't find out until we're eighteen and can cash in our trust funds and run away to a tropical paradise in Guam."

Atobe's eyes widened.

"I'm kidding," Jirou assured him, though Atobe didn't appear to believe him.

"And until then?"

"We practice." Jirou leaned in to properly aim a kiss when the limo lurched to an abrupt stop, tumbling him off of his perch and onto the floor.

Atobe sighed. "Seatbelt, Jirou."

"Haaaaiii."

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_The EllipsesBandit...'s continuing inside jokes and commentary:_

_1. I'm stealing the image of Atobe delivering ramen from _Kamen Rider: Kabuto_. And I'm perfectly comfortable admitting to stealing from a sentai series. _

_2. Guam is fun to say._

_Silver Pair resolution-ish is up next!_


	9. Employees Only

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Chapter 9: In which the Silver Pair finally deliver some fan service._

_A/N: Tada! Short final chapter, I know, but I'll have an epilogue up in a bit. Thanks everyone for all your reviews. They give me self-esteem. And thanks especially to microgirl for beta-ing and reeling in the ellipses as best she can._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"Ohtori!" Shishido shouted, though not entirely sure why he was shouting. Nor did he know why he was following Ohtori at all, but his legs wouldn't stop moving. He wasn't running; that would be undignified. Besides, at a run Shishido could overtake Ohtori, but power walking as they were, Ohtori's longer legs kept him ahead. The second year pushed through a gate marked "Employees Only." Growling to himself, Shishido followed. He shouted Ohtori's name again, and when that failed, he tried, "Choutarou!"

That stopped him. Ohtori turned about six feet away from Shishido, eyes wide.

Under the force of that stare, Shishido found whatever he wanted to say deserted him. Shishido averted his own eyes, stammered for a few seconds, tried to look at Ohtori again, failed, sputtered another few syllables before finally managing, "Look, you're not going to like it."

Ohtori tilted his head, confused.

Shishido tightened his ponytail, just to have something to do with his hands. "For me to get back on the team... it's not going to be easy. You know I'll have to beat one of them, right?"  
Ohtori took a few eager steps towards him. "You could beat Taki-senpai, easily, Shishido-san. He's better at doubles than you right now, but we could train--"

"But it might not _be_ Taki," Shishido sighed. "Atobe could say I have to beat anyone, even him. Even you. And even if he doesn't, I have to train like that's what I'm trying to do. And if you want to help, you have to listen to me, even when you don't want to. And there's going to be a lot of times when you don't want to."

Ohtori nodded, his eyes now wary, as if he was still trying to process Shishido's words.

"And even then it still might not work." Shishido paused, but he had to know the answer to this now. "What happens if it doesn't work?" He tried to cover the anxiety in his voice. Until today, he never would have believed Ohtori was the type to date for status, but today kept throwing nasty surprises at him. And he didn't want to get involved in something like that. He'd seen Taki pull crap like that too many times.

But Ohtori smiled, his eyes softening enough that Shishido couldn't look at them directly. "Shishido-san, if you decide you want to get back on, then you will. There isn't any doubt. That's why ..." Ohtori's face reddened as he looked away, "That's why I like you, Shishido-san. Not because you were a regular or because you will be again, but because you're probably the only person who _can_ become a regular again."

_Damn. Good answer._ Shishido fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt. "I'm really bad at this stuff, Ohtori. I'm not saying that to get you to leave me alone, but you should know. I forget birthdays and I hate telephones and I'm just ... I'm _really_ bad at this."

Ohtori closed the distance between them. "Why don't you let me decide that, senpai?" And Ohtori kissed him. Shishido could have stopped it. He knew on some level he probably _should_ stop it. But he also knew he didn't want to stop this taste that was part thrill, part hormones, and part the cherry cola he'd bought Choutarou earlier.

And all too quickly, it was over. Shishido blinked a few times, sure for a second that Ohtori was wearing that odd smirk from earlier. Then it was gone, replaced by the usual mix of innocence and good intentions.

"We'll start tomorrow, Shishido-san," he grinned, fighting down a blush and starting to move away.

"Hey," Shishido stuttered as he grabbed Ohtori's wrist before the taller boy could get too far. "You don't have to go right now, you know. I mean, we could hang out if..."

Choutarou smiled. "We made a deal, Shishido-san. After you make the regulars."

Shishido blinked. The second year was much craftier than the rest of the team gave him credit for. "Tell me one thing," he began. "After the SkyDrop, why did you run back here?"

Now, Choutarou positively beamed, "So you'd follow me, Shishido-san."

Shishido put one hand to his forehead. "I thought so."

With a soft chuckle, Ohtori disappeared out through the gate.

Part of Shishido wanted to smack himself for getting into something that was obviously going to be as messy and fraught with peril as this relationship. However, the rest of him was too busy trying to wipe the stupid grin off of his face before someone saw to notice.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

_The EllipsesBandit...'s continuing inside jokes and commentary_

_--Actually this chapter is pretty self-explanatory. I do occasionally get the almost uncontrollable urge to yell "CHOUTAROOOOOOOOOOOU!!" at the top of my lungs, but who doesn't? Right?  
_

_--cricket noises-- _

_...right?_


	10. Epilogue: The Music Room

_**Hyotei and the Happy Panda**_

_Epilogue: In which Ohtori gets some things off his chest and much fluff is delivered for all_

_A/N: Yay! It's done! I can feel--if not proud of how I choose to spend my free time-- at least accomplished. Thanks to all my reviewers for cheering me on and to Microgirl for indulging my shounen-ai fangirl without complaint and for baking me cookies. _

_Anou... if you're wondering what I'm doing next (and my ego is big enough to allow me to say that even though my slippery foundation in reality tells me it's silly), I'm working on a crossover piece with Microgirl. It's an alt. universe, crackparody/fangirl goof that will be combining Tenipuri and C.S.I. If you watch both shows (how many people watch both? It's all a part of the experiment), you'll enjoy it a lot. If you watch one, we're attempting to fill it with service so everyone can enjoy. No idea when we'll start posting the monster, but it will be under the name pen name TrozInc. _

_Okay, plug's over. Enjoy the Epilogue. _

_-------------------_

_Three Weeks Later_

Ohtori kept his posture straight, his pace dignified as he walked down the music department's hall after tennis practice. Eventually, he located an empty practice room, and stepped calmly inside. Locking the door, he sat down on the piano bench, took a deep breath, and at the top of his lungs, shouted, "_Damn it! Damn it! Damn it ! Damn it!!!_"

Another deep breath later, Ohtori felt a little better, at least until he heard a sleepy voice from behind the piano mumble, "Huh? Ohtori-kun, was that you?"

Ohtori leapt to his feet. "J-Jirou-senpai?"

Jirou stumbled up to sit on the bench. "You curse? I didn't know you could curse."

"Excuse me, senpai," Ohtori bowed hurriedly. "I didn't know you were using this room. I'll go."

"Stay," Jirou said pleasantly, halting Ohtori at the door. "I didn't reserve it or anything. I just like these rooms cuz they're soundproof. And I wasn't making fun of you or anything, just surprised. Besides, from what I hear you've got a couple reasons to curse today." He patted the seat next to him. Ohtori kept his groan to himself as he slumped onto the bench.

"I did warn you," Jirou shrugged. "Atobe gets a little petty sometimes."

Ohtori refrained from commenting on either the word 'little' or the word 'sometimes.'

Jirou continued. "And you got what you wanted, right? I mean, Shishido's back on the team. Who knows, maybe he'll play better now that his hair isn't blocking his vision all the time."

Ohtori felt his shoulders slump even further. It had been so much work. So much harder than even he predicted. They'd gone home every night, hours after the regulars had left, bruised and disheveled, Ohtori's arm aching from the amoung of scud serves he'd had to fire off. And after all that ... "He didn't tell me. He had the scissors with him the whole time, and he didn't tell me."

"Would you have let him?"

"Of course not. I could have figured out something else." Anything else. The image of Shishido-san's tresses falling to the pavement would haunt Ohtori's nightmares for years, he was sure.

"Guys like Shishido and Atobe, you have to let them do things their own way sometimes. Besides, Atobe would've known if it was your idea," Jirou pointed out. "This way, he's not mad at either of you anymore. And you get a doubles partner you can actually synch with. Speaking of doubles, anybody heard from Taki yet?"

"Mukahi-senpai said he went to the hospital to make sure he hadn't permanently damaged something."

Jirou snickered. "Poor guy. But you and Shishido are gonna be a good team. I can tell."

"Thank you, senpai."

"Where is he, anyway? Shouldn't you two be out celebrating or buying hats or some combination of the two?"

"He's meeting with Atobe-san and Sakaki-sensei. Then we were going to--"

A knock on the door stopped him. Ohtori saw Shishido's face under a blue baseball cap appear in the small window. He ignored Jirou's smirk as he opened the door.

"Hey," said Shishido, attempting to fidget with his ponytail and frowning as he realized he couldn't. "Ready?"

"Hai, senpai," Ohtori began.

"Don't forget you both have practice in the morning," Jirou warned, beaming.

Shishido started, as if noticing the volley specialist for the first time. "What are you doing here?"

"Ohtori-kun's teaching me to play piano," Jirou sang without skipping a beat, he then turned and began playing a heartfelt rendition of "Chopsticks."

Atobe appeared in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, "Jirou, you've been taking piano lessons since you were six. You have the same instructor as ore-sama."

Jirou shrugged, pausing his beat. "Ohtori-kun is a better teacher." He paused to stretch before adding, "I'm hungry. Ne, Keigo, want to get some ice cream wih me?"

Atobe sighed. "Very well." As Jirou bounced over, the buchou appraised Shishido and Ohtori for a moment. "Though he is right. You do both have practice in the morning. Ore-sama would hate to see either of you dropped now."

"Whatever," Shishido huffed. Atobe ignored him as Jirou grabbed the buchou's elbow and dragged him down the hall.

For a moment, the doubles partners stared awkwardly not at each other.

"So..." Shishido began. "You still want to go?"

"Of course," Ohtori forced a smile on his face. "Why wouldn't I?"

Shishido pulled the hat off his head, running his fingers through the short spikes of hair. "I thought you might be mad or something."  
Ohtori shook his head, tentatively reaching out to touch the side of Shishido's hair. Shishido held his breath, making Ohtori smile a little more naturally. "You did what you had to. Are you okay with it?"

"It's just hair," Shishido lied, tugging his cap back on.

Ohtori nodded. "Please don't think I'm weird or anything, Shishido-san, but after you left, I..." Ohtori fished in his pocket and pulled out a hastily tied braid of long, sable hair. "I thought you might want it."

Shishido touched the braid, smiling a little. "Thanks." He tucked it into his jersey pocket. "So, I owe you a date, I guess. Any place you had in mind?"

"Actually," Ohtori smiled, "There's a new Chinese place that opened up down the street I've wanted to try."

Shishido scowled. "Any place that isn't called the Hungry Panda Cafe?"

"My treat."

Another sigh. "Fine."

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_SLIGHT SPOILER ALERT: I miss Shishido's hair. I miss it so. And Genius 305 just makes me miss it more. Will somebody please take the scissors away from Hyotei! If you don't get what I'm talking about, I won't spoil it for you, but be grateful. _


End file.
